Mortal's Fear
by mywildimagination
Summary: A mortal girl, able to see through the Mist, tries to protect her adopted brother on the perilous journey to Camp Half-Blood. Will fear of losing her brother stand in the way of a new quest?
1. I Question Reality

What's it like to be family to a half-blood?

It's hard, because, obviously, you get monsters in town a lot. You have to worry about whether your loved one is safe. Every time you seem overprotective to him, he'll get testy and impulsive. He might not always want you around, and when he does, it's hard to keep the secret of his parentage from him.

When he finds out, it doesn't get any better. He might want to live somewhere else. The decision is constanly nagging at him and scaring you. Part of you hurts to see him like it at Camp Half-Blood, and the other part is glad he's there, where you don't have to watch him every minute of the day, where he's safe...

And yet, how safe can he be, in the hands of those that brought him into this mess? Though you understand the responsibilities of his father, how can you trust the people that have abandoned him until now? How is this fair to your loved one or you? You wish he had parents that could really take care of him.

Yet if they could, they'd be robbing you of the experience of a lifetime.

XXXXXXX

Diego was pretty annoying as far as little brothers go. He constantly tried to find ways to terrorize me and embarass me in front of my friends. I could use about a thousand instances to prove this, from the moment my parents adopted him from my aunt, to any day right now. However, the best place to start my story is the first day of summer break this year.

Diego had just finished fourth grade, but he'd been to a lot of schools for his age. Mom had tried to put him in a public school in kindergarten, but he'd been kicked out. So she homeschooled him in first and second grade for his ADHD and dyslexia. Third grade took place in another public school in the district, but of course he was expelled again. So Mom put him in the charter school I'd been going to for nine years (since kindergarten), which he didn't mix too well with, as usual. Now she had all summer to find some new place for Diego to start school. I was just glad I didn't have to put up with him in public on a regular basis anymore.

I had Mandy over that day. She'd been my best friend since fourth grade, when my posse broke up because the Saunders twins moved away. We had a lot in common. We were both exceptional students, with 4.0 grade averages. We both played in the school band (me playing the flute, she the clarinet). We had a great love for fantasy. We talked Harry Potter, Artemis Fowl, Percy Jackson and the Olympians... The latter of which had our attention that summer. Yes, we were Percy maniacs.

She was knocking on my door at eleven o'clock sharp, and unfortunately, Diego answered it before I could.

"What are _you_ doing here?" he asked, rude as ever.

"I'm here to spend time with Anna," she answered primly. "Not that it's any of your beeswax."

I smiled. Mandy had an uncanny ability to deflect Diego's insensitive remarks. "Come in," I told her, and we escaped to my room before Diego could follow.

Once we arrived, I turned on Kelly Clarkson and we sat on my bed, delving into a conversation about our classmates this past year, turning to my yearbook for reference.

Somehow we got into a conversation about my little brother.

"I feel sorry for him sometimes," Mandy confessed.

_Sorry?_ "Why?" I asked, confused.

"It's just that everybody marks him out as a troublemaker."

"He _is_ a troublemaker," I reminded her.

Mandy sighed. "But he can't be behind _everything_. And he's _blamed_ for everything."

"Not _everything_."

"But for a lot of things. Look, let's say Diego causes about eighty-five percent of the trouble in your home, and you and Ian" (he's my older brother) "cause the other fifteen percent."

"Mmm-hmm," I answered, following along.

"Well, when it comes to blame, Diego gets about one hundred percent."

I nodded. "I see what you're saying. But Diego wouldn't get blamed if he didn't cause that eighty-five percent in the first place."

She shrugged. "Children tend to live up to the expectations of others."

"So you're saying that it's not his fault he gets in trouble?"

She shook her head. "Part of it is his own fault, another are his disabilities, and the rest of it is everyone else's fault."

The words _not his fault_ and _getting in trouble_ bounced around in my head and clicked together with an idea that made my lungs gasp and my eyes pop.

"What? What is it?" Mandy asked.

"What if... What if Diego is a half-blood?" I whispered, glancing at the book on the nightstand.

She glanced at it too, her face deep in thought, putting the pieces together. "You said he was adopted?" she asked quietly.

"He's my aunt's son," I explained. "She never told us who his father was."

"Maybe it's Ares."

"Or Hermes."

"Or a minor god, like Nemesis."

"It would explain why the monsters haven't gotten us yet." Maybe it was the way I said it - like a little kid at night - that made us laugh.

"Or," Mandy suggested, still giggling, "he's a child of the Big Three and he's not even supposed to exist."

I gasped in mocking shock, and we broke into raucous giggles. We both recognized a silent agreement. Since this was probably a coincidence, we would treat it as such until we had further evidence.

However, in our book a coincidence had great grounds for an inside joke, and for a miniscule amount of time it became something we would make references to, in front of Diego, when trying to get on his nerves ("Need a ballpoint pen to keep you safe from monsters, Diego?" "Hey, look, Diego! A water fountain! Let's do a prank call on Ares!"). It also became a source of pity for Diego when he got on _our_ nerves.

If only I knew how long those happy weeks would last.


	2. The Best Way to Demolish a Library

The next two weeks were nothing but a regular summer. I poured over the contents of the four Percy Jackson books I owned, looking for clues that might lead to Diego's past. I didn't really find anything. Maybe I was just being an overcrazed Percy fan, or Diego was too young to let on too much about his parentage. Either way, there wasn't much I could do about his safety. Unless I could see through the Mist, I was just a regular mortal.

Of course, I wasn't presented with a chance to protect him until the afternoon my mom made me take him with me to the library.

"He needs to keep practice with reading," she told me. "Just make sure he takes something home." She gave me a genuine it's-for-your-own-good look and shoved us both out the door.

Neither of us were too happy about this excursion. I came to the library to find some substance to keep my brain going over the summer. Reading was a necessary part of life for me; something as destructive as Diego in the place I loved would not be fun. In Diego's view, every moment not spent hunting grasshoppers or collecting some sort of action toy or being annoying was a moment wasted. He hated reading. He couldn't see the letters correctly if his life depended on it. Mom and her crazy ideas.

He tried to knock my bike over as we retrieved them from the garage. I elbowed him in the chest and got myself and the bike safely out of his range. His grin was smug as he we mounted our bikes. He'd enjoy annoying people even if they didn't react the tiniest bit. He was annoying for the sake of being annoying. How anyone could stand being around him was a mystery to me.

However, I would have to stand it for a little bit longer. As I picked out interesting-looking books, Diego just wandered around the library, taking random books off the shelves and playing with the holes they created, like an idiot. When the librarian gave him a severely nasty look, I told him to pick a book and bolt. Of course he didn't listen to me, procrastinating for at least ten minutes before we finally headed to the checkout desk. I didn't see much of him until I put my books down on the counter. When I looked up to see his whole face, I gasped.

This person, this _thing_, was definitely not human. He looked kinda like an anklosaurus dinosaur sitting at a desk, but had spikes running down his back, more like a dragon. In fact, his whole body looked like a dragon's, except for the scorpion's tail that curled up from behind the seat. He stared at Diego like he was the last of the chocolate chip cookies. I wasn't sure exactly what it was, but I knew it shouldn't be anywhere near my brother. He checked out our books and then pointed a long talon at Diego.

"You," he said grouchily, "need to come have a little chat with me."

"No way," Diego said rudely, turning around and heading for the door.

"Diego," I warned.

"C'mon, Anna . . ."

The librarian seemed to be anticipating something, like my dad watching a major play in a football game. He stood up like my dad would have too, still somewhat over the chair, but not in excitement. He stood crouched, as if ready to pounce.

_Forget the books_, I told myself, turning around and pushing Diego toward the door. "Run!" I cried to him. Diego sprinted out the door, faster than I'd ever run in gym class, which wasn't saying much, since I've always been slower than anyone else on the planet.

"OH, NO, YOU DON'T!" shouted the librarian. Then I remembered the description of this creature from _The Titan's Curse_.

There was a manticore in the library.

Diego, was already behind the window, standing with his mouth wide open. He seemed such an easy target. Scurrying to the window, I yelled, "Run!" I cried a second time. It was when Diego was out of range that the librarian shot the missile at my chest.

_I'm dead,_ I told myself. _I'm so, so dead_. The wickedly sharp point of the missile touched me and came through the window. I sunk to the floor, sure I was sporting a grievous wound. But when I looked down, I saw that no part of me was hurt. Figured. The manticore's missiles were celestial bronze, which had no effect on mortals. And I was a mortal.

So I got to my feet and saw people scrambling for the door. I wasn't sure what they saw, or whether they could see through the Mist like me, but they sure knew this wasn't the best place to hang around anymore -- if you were concerned about your safety. It was me and the manticore now. One on one.

I was no daughter of Athena, but I had a rough plan. I knew I couldn't kill him. But I could detain him, just long enough for me to find Diego and get away from here. Just long enough. I hid behind a bookshelf and yelled, "Hey, stupid! Over here!"

Did I ever tell you how good I am at impressions? Well, I can imitate Diego's voice well enough. Hopefully I smelled enough like him for the monster to fall for it. Sure enough, there was a missile launched in roughly that direction.

I kept running around the library, attracting spikes wherever I went, bringing the place down piece by piece. When I was sure the ceiling was going to cave in, I ran out of there while the beast wasn't looking.

I found Diego a few blocks away, looking scared out of his wits. We both heard the manticore screaming, probably calling for reinforcements. I was sure we'd have to leave as soon as possible. I'd have to find some way to get Diego to Camp Half-Blood. I wasn't sure how to get there, but I had to.

"Why didn't it kill you?" Diego demanded.

_You wanted me dead? Thanks a lot._ "I'm mortal," I told him.

"So am I!"

"No," I assured him, "you're not."

"But that doesn't make any sense!"

"Of course it doesn't. I'll tell you later. But we've got to get home _now_."

Our bikes were on the other side of the library, where there was an empty alley and no monsters or police. We booked it to our house. Once there, I put together a couple of backpacks filled with food and other necessities (though I wished we had ambrosia and nectar); I combined Diego's and my savings and grabbed my Percy Jackson and mythology books.

"Where are we going?" Diego asked timidly.

"We're going to New York," I said, scrounging up materials.

"Why?"

"It'll be safer there."

"But it's so far away!"

He was right, of course. We lived in Utah. New York was halfway across the country. But we couldn't do anything else.

"We'll ride our bikes as far as we can," I answered, "then hitchhike." But as soon as I said it, another form of transportation came to mind...

There were police sirens on the other street, no doubt coming to arrest us for questioning about the recent demolishing of the town library. "C'mon," I said, tossing Diego his now loaded backpack.

We got on our bikes and pedaled as far east as we could. It was getting near dark when we stopped at the edge of a highway in the middle of nowhere. Totally exhausted, we made "camp" behind a grove of trees not far off from the road. After we had eaten a little something from our bags, Diego dogged me with questions.

"Why are we going to New York? What was that thing in the library? Why was it trying to kill me? And what d'you mean, I'm not mortal?"

I took a deep breath, and told him about the only possible explanation. I showed him the books I'd brought, and told him the symptoms I was sure that meant he was a demigod.

"But it's just a story," he said when I was finished.

"Exactly," I replied. "It's a story we're a part of now."

"Is this some sick joke you're playing on me?"

I gave him a cold look. "Would I joke about something like this?"

It was silent for a moment.

"So...who do you think my dad is?"

"I don't know, Diego," I sighed. "You're sorta young to tell right now. Maybe when we get to Camp Half-Blood, he'll claim you."

"Claim me?"

"He'll send a sign telling everyone you're his son." I turned my head to look at the moon. "But please consider that he might not."

"Not what?"

I turned back to look at him, face grave. "Claim you. The gods are really busy, and they have a lot of kids. Sometimes . . . they don't really care."

Diego snorted. "_My_ dad won't be like that."

"I hope so, too."

Diego didn't look like he just hoped, though. He had a lot of trust in his dad. Funny how he trusts the Olympian father he's never met, but not me. I guess he was tired of always getting the blame, like Mandy had said. She was right, and it was enough to make me feel sorry for Diego now.

He yawned and turned over onto his backpack to sleep. I did the same with my own pack. _This hard ground is going to feel great on my back in the morning, _was my last thought before drifting into subconsciousness.


	3. We Fall into a Deep, Dark Pit

There was a long, winding tunnel. I somehow knew it was supposed to be dark as well, but in my eyes, it was bright as nooonday. My companion stumbled in the darkness, groping for my hand. When he caught it, I blushed, but led him to a fork in the tunnel.

"This way," I told him, taking the left tunnel.

When we reached an open space in the tunnel that had light my companion could see through. Though I now saw him for the first time, I knew he was Percy Jackson, son of the Sea God. He looked into my eyes and asked, "Do you trust me?"

"Yes," I responded.

I could tell he wasn't sure, but he suddenly took out Riptide and starting clanging away at a manticore I hadn't seen before. He somehow managed to get him on his back, then Percy cut him open and he turned into a tricycle, which was odd, because monsters were supposed to break open when sliced with celestial bronze, just blow away and turn into dust. Yet the fact that it turned into a tricycle seemed perfectly acceptable to me.

Then Percy wasn't Percy anymore; he was Diego. I instantaneously realized that Percy had been Diego all along, but I'd seen him differently. "Do you trust me?" he repeated.

I couldn't answer.

"I don't trust _you_!" he ejaculated, then he turned into Luke and disappeared.

XXXXXXX

Diego and I woke up groggily that morning, getting on our bikes first thing. It was tiring. Neither of us had the energy rush from last night, and a great deal of the ride was uphill. We kept on walking our bikes until Diego blew a flat tire a couple miles from a small town still in Utah's borders. We left them there and walked into town, where we bought some ice cold water from a vending machine. They were so _refreshing, _thank the gods.

"How are we going to get to New York now?" asked Diego when we caught our breath again.

I'd given this some thought on the way up here, and now I was sure what to do. "We're going to look for . . . we'll just look around the town for a little bit, then see if we can get a taxi to the next big city."

"Okay," he said. I was glad he didn't know how much it would cost to get a taxi to take us that far. It would practically blow all our savings. No, I had little intention of taking a taxi. We'd ride Utah Trax if there was a station here, but unfortunately there wasn't. There was something funny about this town, and I had a feeling there was an entrance to the Labyrinth here. I wasn't sure if we could still use it, seeing how Daedalus, according to the Percy Jackson account (which I had begun to question exactly how it had come about), was dead, but somehow I knew it could be used for transportation.

We walked up and down the streets and back alleyways. Through the window of a fast food restaurant, I noticed a news report with my parents on air.

"...adolescents on the loose," the reporter was saying. "Have Anna or Diego ever expressed any violent tendencies in the past?"

"They're good kids," Mom said calmly, but her eyes were clearly red from crying. "Anna's always been a good student. Diego, well, he's never been a perfect child, but he's always such a joy to our family..."

I doubted he was always a joy, but I guess if you got past the annoying part of Diego, he was probably okay. At least Mom could see that. Diego was lucky to have her and Dad, had it better than other demigods.

"Wasn't he adopted?"

My dad looked firm and strong, though he seemed to have worried a lot, too. "I don't think that's any cause for stereotyping," he said confidently.

"Even if it turns out that they did set off bombs that seriously injured three people and almost killed a man?" the reporter asked skeptically.

"They're still - still our children," Mom shuddered.

The reporter turned around, her hair flouncing, and said in a cornily grave voice to the television station, "There you have it, Utah. Anna and Diego Alvarez were last seen fleeing from the crime scene on their bicycles. Call this toll free number if you have any information."

People were staring at me and Diego, so we ran from the restaurant and ended up in a more deserted part of the town.

"Can't we call a taxi?" Diego groaned every five minutes. I ignored him. After an hour or two of wandering around, we came to an old, run-down factory that was clearly out of business. I felt very strongly that we should go inside, so I hopped the fence, Diego staring after me.

"Well?" I asked him. "Aren't you gonna come with me?"

He looked at me like I was crazy, and then seemed to get a brain flash. "Yeah, I'm coming," he said irritably.

Once we were both on opposite sides of the fence, we sauntered through an empty parking lot. The front door turned out to be locked. Since it was a glass door, I figured a rock or a piece of broken sidewalk would do. It wasn't too hard to find a decent-sized piece of concrete.

"Help me carry this," I commanded. Diego just stood there, raising his eyebrows and shaking his head. "We need to get inside that building," I pleaded, but he kept on with his facial expressions.

I was getting tired of Diego's flippant attitude. "GET OVER HERE _NOW_!"

He came over and helped me carry it.

"Now," I said, "on the count of three, we're going to throw this concrete through the door. One - two - THREE!"

The sidewalk block sailed through the air and rammed through the door with a satisfying shattering sound. Then - _WER-ERP! WER-ERP! WER-ERP!_ - a siren went off. "Get inside!" I shrieked, and we both entered the building. "Up the stairs!"

We didn't stop till we got to the third level, which revealed a pair of bronze bulls when I opened the door. Beyond them was another gilttering mark: a Greek _delta _on a mismatched office floorboard.

Funny. In the books it was blue, not gold.

"Diego," I said, "get behind me."

"But this is so dumb!" he protested. "Why did we even break in here? This has no way out of town, the police will be here any minute - and what're they gonna say about these gold cow things?!"

A bronze hoof pawed the floor and the owner of it charged.

"Move!" I screamed, pulling Diego's wrist as I sidestepped the bull and it crashed into the wall behind us. We crept around it as it struggled against the insulation, and the I saw the second bull charge out of my peripheral vision. I tried to maneuver away from it the same way I did with the first, but it turned as I did - just at the last minute. I pushed Diego to the floor and collapsed on top of him, protecting him from the automatons. Somehow, as the bull came upon us, we flew about ten feet on impact. A few inches from my face was the shining _delta_.

"Touch it," I told Diego, and he obliged. The floorboard moved, creating just enough space for a man to slide into. Diego was inside before I had to say anything, and we slid down the sloping tunnel just as the first bull collided into the spot where we'd just been.

Diego and I landed on clammy soil. I rolled off of him, and we laid there for who knows how long, catching our breath.

"There's . . . something . . . about this place," Diego panted.

"Of course . . . there is." I coughed. "This is the Labyrinth. You're a half-blood. You get jumpy here."

"Not jumpy," Diego corrected me. "I don't know how it makes me feel. I just . . . like it here. I feel like there's a whole world of possibilities around me. Open."

I raised an eyebrow at him, but he couldn't see it in the dim light. He stood up and dusted himself off. "Well, I can see some light on the left. If you want to come along, you'll just have to follow me." He started walking.

"Hold on," I mumbled, scrambling off the ground and running after him.


	4. We Discover the Labyrinth Express

"I had this weird dream," said Diego as we walked at a fast pace down the tunnel.

"Tell me about it," I said excitedly. Demigods had very manipulative dreams that often helped them on whatever quest they were on at the moment. I wish I had dreams like that, but no, I get pointless ones about trust and manticores turning into tricycles.

"It was, well, weird. The gods, like, wanna annoy somebody, so Zeus snaps his fingers and this girl pops out of nowhere and they give her all this stuff, like a dress and gold and stuff, and then the set her loose on all the guys. Everybody went crazy about her," Diego finished, taking a deep breath.

"That's all?"

"Yep."

Huh. Diego's dream reminded me of . . . _something_ in Latin class. It started at the creation of the earth, I knew that. Let's see, and it led up to some other myth, like . . .

"Pandora's box!" I cried, making Diego jump.

"What?"

"We're going on a quest, Diego. And it has something to do with Pandora's box."

Diego stopped walking. "A quest?"

I suddenly went red. "Well, maybe it's just _you_ going on a quest. Mortals don't get quests, and I'd only be on one if you wanted me to come." Of course he wouldn't want me to come along on a quest. Not once we got to Camp Half-Blood. He wouldn't need me anymore. He wouldn't want me around anymore.

"But what does my dream have to do with a box and a quest?" Diego asked, confused.

Oh, duh. He didn't know mythology like I did. We'd need to have some serious history classes soon. Or read Percy Jackson. Mmm, I think we'd both like that one better. "The girl they create is Pandora. They set her loose on the guys and it's supposed to be this _horrid_ thing, because _women_ are the cause of _all trials_ for _men_," I ranted. Stupid Homer. "Anyway, she ends up in the care of Epimetheus, the stupid Titan, and he's entrusted with a box from Zeus. He tells him to tell Pandora that she can't open the box, no matter how curious she is as to what's inside it. Epimetheus carries on the message, but Pandora is just so dang curious that she opens the box anyway and unleashes all these plagues on mankind. The only thing left in the box is hope, ironically."

Diego looked a little dazed from my long recitation of myth. "So . . . why did I have a dream about her?"

I stifled a giggle. The question he'd just asked seemed a little bit out of context (A/N: Sounds like Percabeth to me! What do you guys think?). I passed it off as a cough and told him about how half-bloods had weird dreams like that.

"Oh," he said, and started walking again. "Hey, Anna?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think you can _guess_ who my father is? Do you have any idea?" He looked up at me hopefully.

I studied him a moment. We were both Mexican, both _my_ parents were (and they were legal immigrants). Diego's dark hair and skin dominated over basic godlike features. I tried looking for other things, like the shape of his nose, his facial expression. He didn't seem to come across as a son of Ares to me anymore. Too young and innocent. Was that a sharp, upturned nose he had? Sharp enough to belong to Hermes? Was he brooding enough to be a son of Poseidon? Gods forbid. I didn't want to give Kronos another chance to control the prophecy. I realized how important my duties as a keeper were.

"Umm," I said, still considering, "I dunno. I haven't really _met_ any gods, you know? Just read about them. Maybe . . . Hermes? Poseidon? For all I know, it's the god of chocolate."

Diego sighed, looking a bit disappointed. "It's hard, not really having a dad," he said.

I grabbed his arm and pulled him to a stop. "And what about _our_ dad, Diego? The one that was _there_ for you? The one that taught you how to read and write and ride your bike? He's your father, too, no matter the amount of ichor - the golden blood of the gods - is in you."

"You can't have _two_ dads," Diego growled at me.

"Theseus did," I told him. "His dad was Poseidon, did you know that? Yet the king of Athens made him his heir. King Aegeus gave him a sword, a plan to get back to Athens. Even though his real dad helped him in the Labyrinth, Theseus's stepdad gave him a home. King Aegeus threw himself into the sea just because he thought Theseus'd died. You have another dad that can love and really support you, not just give you magic powers and say, 'Good luck.' You have what Theseus had. Do you know how many half-bloods wish _they_ had what you have?"

Diego pulled away guiltily and ran ten paces down the tunnel. I followed him. "Look," I said. "I'm sorry to, you know, attack you. It's just that, well, I hate having you think you're so alone and abandoned, while you have all this - "

"You _know_ I don't feel that way!" he yelled (A/N: weird context again, I don't know what's wrong with me), looking, for once, what could be a son of Ares. "Do you think I'm that dumb? Do you think I haven't noticed that you could've dumped me on the side of the road last night, and I could be bronze bull feed by now? Do you think I can't understand that you see things I don't sometimes? And do you always have to be showing off?"

"Showing off?" I cried. "What d'you mean, showing off?"

"'I know so much about Greek mythology,'" Diego mimicked in a poor imitation of my voice. Cyclops blood was out for sure, thank the gods. "'I've read all the Percy Jackson books and I know everything about you because I've read about your extended family!' Well, huzzah for that!"

"And so? What if I do know more about this stuff than you do? You want me to be less condescending? Don't be a hothead yourself!" I snarled, losing it, too.

"Look who's talking!"

I noticed something in another fork in the Labyrinth. "Is that . . . a billboard?" I asked, taking a step closer.

"I don't see anything," said Diego.

"This way," I said, heading right. Our argument forgotten, Diego followed me.

When we got to the end of the tunnel we found a . . . subway station . . . of sorts. We noticed a kind of jet stopping in the middle of the room and invisible servants carrying boxes to and fro. People got on and off of it, too. The billboard I'd seen had _Labyrinth Express_ written on it. There were other signs that said, _Monsters and demigods must ride in different cars_, and _Personnel are instructed to stop only at designated stations_. Caducei (how do you spell the plural of caduceus, anyway?) were engraved everywhere. Diego came up to the wall and put a hand on the messenger god's symbol.

"I still have that feeling, you know," he told me.

I asked, "That open feeling?"

"Yeah," he said.

"I think Hermes owns this place," I mused aloud. "He might've turned the Labyrinth into a transportation system, to cut back on his delivery time."

"I don't get it," Diego said. "Isn't the Labyrinth supposed to be full of monsters or something? And hard to find your way through? How does Hermes get in here?"

"Well you know the story about Daedalus and Icarus, right?" I quizzed him.

"King Minos made Daedalus build the Labyrinth, right? But he imprisoned him and his son in it, so they couldn't escape. Then Daedalus made some wings, so they could travel through the air. And they escaped, right?" he guessed.

"Close," I said. "The wings were mostly made out of wax, so when Icarus flew too close to the sky, they melted and he drowned in the sea."

Diego shrugged.

"Well, Daedalus's life force was tied to the Labyrinth, so it became a part of Western civilization. Instead of existing only in Crete, the Labyrinth grew so it became a sort of second skin under the world, a network of underground tunnels that connected in random places. It couldn't be mapped, and it changed a lot, so nobody really used the Labyrinth to go anywhere."

"Right," said Diego, "so how come there's this subway now?"

"Daedalus died," I said.

"Two thousand years ago."

"No," I corrected him. "I don't know exactly when the fourth book took place, but he died at the very end of that book. Since the Labyrinth was tied to his life force, it died too. Now it's just a mass of underground tunnels, apparently, that Hermes decided to put to use."

"So, what do we do now?" he asked.

"I dunno. Buy tickets?" I looked around for a ticket booth.

"Over there," said Diego, pointing.

"When's the next ride to Camp Half-Blood?" I asked the invisible servant at the counter.

"In a couple of hours," it replied. "How many?"

"Two," I told it.

"Twenty drachmas, please."

Oh, duh. Of course we'd pay in god currency. "Umm," I stalled nervously, pulling my bag off my shoulder, "do you accept American dollars?"

If it had had a face, I'm sure the servant would have given me a _what-planet-do-you-live-on?_ look. "No," it said. "Pay in drachmas or get out of line."

I noticed the grumbling commuters behind me. "Look, sir, we need to get to camp, or we'll - "

_"If you don't have the money to pay for it, then get out of line!"_

I sighed. "C'mon, Diego."

We sat on a caduceus-marked bench. I put my head in my hands, and mumbled our options aloud. "Can't go anywhere by subway. I dunno what we'll find if we go back to the Labyrinth entrance." I put my arms around Diego, feeling almost ready to cry. "I don't want to have to fight those bulls again. I have a feeling we got away from them mostly on luck last time, they'll be ready for whatever tricks we have up our sleeve. I - I don't know what to _do_. . . "

Diego struggled to get me off him, and I stopped hugging him. "_I_ know what to do," he said.

I considered him. "What?"

"Look," he explained matter-of-factly, pointing to the invisible servants carrying packages on and off the train. "Those boxes look big enough for us to stow away inside and nobody would know."

"But how would we get inside them?" I asked.

Diego snorted. "Easy. We sneak into the storage room and find the right-sized boxes. Then we ship ourselves to Camp Half-Blood." I noticed the door through which invisible servants carried packages in and out. "Simple."

I thought about it. The plan had a lot of holes. So much could go wrong. But then, what other choice did we have?

"All right," I said. "Let's do it."

* * *

**As of November 15, any reviews given this story will be replied with a preview passage from the next chapter. So, if you like this story, review! Thanks for reading!**


	5. I Spend Three Hours in a Cardboard Box

Once the invisible servants were done loading boxes in the storage room, Diego picked the lock and we tiptoed inside, making sure nobody else was around before we spoke.

"Okay," I said. "Just feel your way around and see if you can find anything addressed to Camp Half-Blood."

Diego nodded. "It would help if we had more light in here, but . . ."

"We can't risk giving ourselves away," I finished for him, digging through my backpack. There was no sound but the rustling I was making.

"Here," I said, tossing him a flashlight.

"Is that the only one we have?" he asked.

"Yeah, so don't lose it."

Diego turned it on and nodded as we turned to the challenge before us. The storage room wasn't necessarily gigantic, but it would've been the size of our living room if it wasn't chock full with boxes. They were piled high all around the room. We had no idea how they were organized, even if they did have some rhyme and rhythm to their placement.

"We have an hour and a half until the train for Camp Half-Blood leaves," I said. "Let's go."

We split up to search throughout the storage room. I moved faster than him, needing only to glance at the packages before moving on. Mount Olympus, Circe's Island, Junkyard of the Gods . . .

Close to the middle of the room, I found a few boxes that had Camp Half-Blood printed on their sides.

"Over here, Diego!" I called, then checked my watch. Only forty-five minutes left. "Hurry!" I tacked on urgently.

"Did you find them?" he asked expectantly.

"Yes," I said. "Look for one that's big enough for you - or both of us." I highly doubted we would find one _that _roomy, but you never knew. As I sorted through the boxes, I began to lose hope. Most of them were from the Cyclopes forges, and they were individually-wrapped celestial bronze weapons. Since when are Cyclopes so uptight?

"Hey, Anna," Diego suggested, "how about this one?" He was atop a gargantuan box. So huge that five of us could fit in there. So massive that you had to climb on the surrounding boxes to reach the top.

"Whoa," was all I could say. Diego took my comment as a yes and started opening the package. I climbed up to see what was inside. The flaps revealed a lot of bubble wrap covering some sort of rock.

"Marble?" Diego guessed.

"For the arts and crafts cabin," I confirmed. "D'you think we can lift it?"

Diego started to pull on the bubble wrap, and I joined him. Despite our efforts, the rock didn't budge an inch.

"How do they lift that thing?" Diego moaned.

"I have no idea," I replied in the same tone. "Do you see anything else we can use?"

He shook his head.

I huffed a sigh out my nose, and cocked my head to the side in thought. "We could go half way," I said. "The junkyard of the gods is in New Mexico. Chances are, nobody's going to look inside the boxes, unless Hephaestus wants to use some spare parts. We'd probably be able to fit inside."

"Sounds good."

We found two boxes to use and took out a couple of prototype golden maidens and some styrofoam thingies, and hid them behind some scavenged boxes from Mt. St. Helens. They looked pretty scruffy, smelling like burnt metal. Again, I felt a rush of relish from dicovering that one of my favorite book series was real.

"Tape," I muttered. "We need to tape these boxes from the inside out."

"Is that even possible?" Diego asked.

"Just look around."

I hadn't even shuffled a couple boxes around when Diego cried, "Aha! A desk!"

I tittered. Hey, you read that out loud and you'll find yourself chuckling, too.

Eventually we found some magic tape in one of the drawers. It was pretty amazing; you could just snap your fingers and the tape would move across your box and keep the lids together. Probably why you didn't see many invisible servants with paper cuts. Ha, you didn't even see invisible servants at all.

Being inside the box was . . . pretty scary. Even when I opened one of the handle flaps for fresh air, I still felt claustrophobic. I worried for Diego. It was probably worse for him than it was for me. I tapped quietly on the side of the box, hoping he would hear me. After a moment, I felt another tap coming from the other side. I tapped back for reassurance - his and mine. Then I made myself comfortable in the styrofoam.

A seed of despair began to grow in my stomach. So much could go wrong. So many factors uncalculated. Could I really lead my brother into such danger?

Maybe I could, if I was stronger. If I could really fight off monsters. All I'd ever done was run. The only advantages I had was the fact that celestial bronze had no effect whatsoever on me, and my sight was clearer even than a half-blood's. Those were pure luck. Even Rachel Elizabeth Dare, she did the least she could. Throwing a hairbrush at Kronos might not have been lasting physically, but it proved Luke had _some_ control - however minute - of his body. Ariadne, she'd had a better plan than mine.

_But did she? _I asked myself. Who knows what could have happened to her thread? Cut off by some monster. Maybe Theseus could have been careless and dropped it. Was it luck we mortals had as well? Heroes almost never did. The god blood went against them. But perhaps a clear-sighted mortal was connected enough to the mythological world that they carried not one, but many, strokes of pure luck.

How much luck did Diego and I need?

Suddenly, light came flooding in around me. I felt like I was being picked up - or rather, dragged - across the room.

"Man, these boxes are heavy," an invisible servant groaned. I tried not to feel hurt.

"They're celestial bronze, stupid," came the reply.

I was set down and then skidded across a smooth surface. Then it was dark again. I tried tapping the box again, but felt nothing but the vibrations of a moving vehicle.

Despair once again filling my heart, I made a pillow of styrofoam and let my consciousness slip away as the subway lurched forward.

* * *

A sudden jerk of the box awakened me. I drowsily rubbed my eyes and became aware that I was being carried again. Feeling nauseous, I yearned for the moment I would be free of this self-induced prison.

Moonlight beams radiated through the handle-flap of my box. Everything was silent as the grave.

Figuring I was probably alone, I struggled in the cardboard. Eventually, the flaps came undone and I tumbled into the dirt.

"What was that?" someone called. I recognized the monotone of an invisible servant.

"The gods have all sorts of skeletons in their closets," another answered. "Our duty is to unload the train and go."

"Lord Hermes will not enjoy any junk on the express. We'll have to take a look around."

"Very well, then."

If only I had waited a moment later! They could have been gone! But the mortal was out of the box now. I calculated the chances of my leaving without them seeing me. Ten percent, maybe twenty, if the gods were generous. It certainly didn't help that the servants could see me better than I could see them.

"Where did you come from?" A question directed at me.

I'll play dumb, I decided. Pretend I was a regular mortal lost in the wilderness of a mysterious junkyard. "Wh-where are the voices coming from?" I appealed to no apparent person, feigning terror. "Ghosts, maybe? In this creepy place? I just want to go home!" My hysterics intensified.

"Mortal."

"Just leave 'er alone."

The extremely light footsteps faded, and silence became my companion again.

"That was some really lame acting," a familiar voice cracked, approaching from behind.

"Diego!" I cried, ignoring his comment and running to hug him.

Once I finished smothering him, he said, "I don't ever want to be packed up like that again."

I nodded absently. "Never." I'd rather die than break the promise.

"Can we get out of here now?" Diego asked. "This place is creepy."

"I'll say," I agreed, looking around as though expecting a monster to pop out of nowhere. "Just don't take anything. You'll die for it."

He chuckled, then realized I was serious.

We tread past the yard gates eventually, and were a few miles out to town when we heard a guttural roar. I turned and recognized a humanoid-bull thingy in tighty-wighties.

Panicked, I whispered, "No."

"That isn't . . . " Diego looked nervous.

"The Minotaur," I said. "If it comes toward you, just step aside at the last second." That is, if the bull wasn't already looking for that.

It charged before we knew it. Following Sally Jackson's advice, we moved apart like flood gates and the bull-man ran in between.

We ran in opposite directions, trying to confuse it. But it just went after Diego. He sped away as quickly as he could.

_Just wait_, I wanted to tell him. _Pause and then sidestep him. At least don't run in a straight line!_

It was as if we were telepathically connected. He did just as I suggested the moment I thought of it.

That was his fatal mistake.

The monster had grabbed Diego just as he had stepped aside. Diego was being strangled to death.

This could not be happening. I couldn't have my brother's death on my hands, no matter what obscure chance I'd have of saving him.

So my next motions came naturally to me. How long it took didn't matter, as long as it happened as quickly as possible. I ended up ten feet away from the Minotaur. A rock found my hand.

"Hey, stupid!" I called to it, then threw the rock as hard as I could. Despite my bad arm, it landed on its hindquarters.

The Minotaur didn't drop Diego like I thought it would. Instead, it draped him over its shoulders and then rushed towards me. The next thing I knew, its hands were around my neck, rock hard and inescapable. It wouldn't be so bad to die now, I thought, if the rest of my and Diego's journey would be like this. It would be easier to escape the monsters and angst.

That was when it dropped me. I opened my eyes and discovered an arrow sticking out of the bull-man's head before it turned to mist.

Diego lay motionless on the ground. I put my head to his chest and felt a heartbeat. I found his shaky but constant breath. Relief washed over me, and then I realized who had shot the arrow that had saved our lives.

A boy and girl stood ten feet away. I couldn't make much else out about them in the darkness.

"Who _are_ you?" I called to them.

The girl stepped forward. "We are Seth and Cassandra Hunter," she said. "Twin children of Apollo. Who are you?"

* * *

**On my profile, there's a poll on who Diego's father is. If you want to vote, vote before the next chapter comes out, because that's when we all find out!**


	6. We Accept Gifts from a Stranger

We found an abandoned shed not far from where we'd battled the Minotaur. Naturally, Diego had to come around _after_ I'd carried him the whole distance. "Whoa," he said, taking in his surroundings.

The place was full of rusting farm equipment. The thin walls wouldn't be much protection if Zeus were in a bad mood tonight, but it was better than nothing. We'd set up a "girls" side and a "boys" side, the latter of which the place he was currently resting on, with a feedsack for a pillow.

I was at his side in an instant. "Where are we?" he asked.

"Far away from the Minotaur," I answered. "It's dead."

"You killed it?" he asked in awe.

I wish! "Not exactly," I murmured.

"Then who . . . " He caught sight of them.

"Hey," Seth said. "I'm Seth, and this is my little sister Cassandra."

"For crying out loud," she said frustratedly. "We're twins. Born on the _exact same day_. How many times do I have to tell you?"

"I was still born first."

She rolled her eyes. "I know Cassandra's a bit of a mouthful," she said kindly, "so I go by Sandra for short. I hate it when people call me Cassy." Sandra gave her brother a _that-includes-you_ look.

"So . . . Anna." Seth changed the subject. "What's your story?"

"I know my adopted brother Diego's a half blood," I started, "and that I'm not."

"You look related," Sandra observed.

"We're cousins," Diego supplied.

"We've been on the run for a couple of days now," I said. "It doesn't help, not having weapons."

"Good thing we're joining up, then," Seth said. "I need a break from my little sis here."

Cassandra gave him a rough nudge.

"How long have you been on the run?" I asked at the same moment Diego said, "How old are you?"

"We're twelve-" That was Seth.

"-And we've been running for a couple of weeks." That was Sandra.

"That makes you a couple years younger than me, then," I said.

"I'm ten," Diego added.

"Cool," Seth said. "Hey, I feel a haiku coming on!"

Sandra groaned. I would have, but since I just met them and all, I didn't want to seem rude.

_"Rakes slowly rusting,  
I just killed the Minotaur.  
I am extremely cool."_

"Too many syllables on the last line," Sandra corrected. "And I was the one who shot that arrow, not you."

"What are you talking about?" Seth said. "That was totally me. Right, Anna?"

"Uhh . . ."

"Yeah, Seth, you try to watch who shot what arrow while you're being strangled to death. She doesn't know," Sandra fumed.

"So it's a draw," Seth answered. "Anyway, I figured out how to fix the last line. I'll just make a contraction. _I'm _extremely cool."

"I don't get it," Diego whispered to me.

The siblings were too busy arguing to notice his comment. "A haiku is a poem," I informed him, "and their dad is the god of poetry."

"Oh."

I chuckled.

"What is it?" Sandra asked me, having only heard my laugh.

I blushed a little. "Oh, it's just . . . you kinda remind me of . . . your dad . . . and his sister."

"His sister?" Seth asked.

"Artemis," I said. It felt so weird, having to explain the book series to somebody who might as well be in it.

"You met them?" Sandra inquired.

My cheeks were redder now. "No, I just . . . read about them. In a book. So far, everything else in it has been true. I mean somebody wrote about this world and . . . published it."

"What books are those?"

I pulled the entire saga out of my backpack. "Percy Jackson and the Olympians," I said. Their expressions curious, I went on, "It's about a son of Poseidon, Percy Jackson. It's one of my favorite book series, I'm so excited it's all real."

Seth picked up _The Lightning Thief_ and appraised it, flipping through pages. "So, you read a lot, huh?"

"Yeah," I replied.

"Can you read some of it?" Sandra asked, taking the book from Seth and handing it to me.

"Um . . . sure." I opened the book slowly, flipping through the title page and table of contents. Diego, Seth, and Cassandra watched warily, as though I were a TV show they'd never seen before.

I cleared my throat. "Chapter one. I Accidentally Vaporize My Pre-Algebra Teacher."

They smiled at the chapter heading; Diego even laughed out loud.

Grinning back at them, my confidence gaining, I went on, "Look, I didn't want to be a half-blood. If you're reading this because you think you might be one . . . "

I went on through the first three chapters, my brother and my new friends hanging on to every word. I felt like a master storyteller, watching them react to the inflections in my voice, listening to their laughter at the punch lines. I'd always been told I was good at reading out loud, and here were the fruits of my talent.

So, for the month or so that followed, Percy Jackson and the Olympians became our Bible, and within that time, we got to the beginning of _Titan's Curse_. We read some every night, and they were so engrossed that I had to limit our reading to two chapters a night so we could get enough sleep. It's not that I was _trying_ to be so motherly. I just noticed how much slower we were to react to monsters, how much harder it was to travel farther every day when we read half the book, so when I suggested it, they agreed.

Once, I noticed something, a small glowing presence, in the middle of Oklahoma somewhere. "You guys," I said, motioning to my three companions, "look." I pointed to the pull of the glowy thingy.

"I don't see anything," Sandra declared. "What is it?"

"Don't you see the glow?" I asked.

They all shook their heads. "Are you sure your eyes aren't playing tricks on you?" Seth asked.

"No," I said indignantly. "We should check it out."

"What if it's a monster?" Diego reasoned.

"Monsters aren't like that," I said. "To me, they just . . . feel wrong. This is different."

Seth and Cassandra pulled out their bows. "Then let's check," Sandra decided.

I went to the glowy thingy and found a thin patch of underbrush hiding what seemed to be a small hole in the side of a prairie. I pulled it out and took the flashlight out of my backpack, flipping it on. I found a small earthy home inside.

"What is this place?" Diego asked.

"D'you remember?" Sandra said. "In _Sea of Monsters_, Percy and Annabeth found a place like this."

I nodded. "This is probably one of the hiding spots built by Thalia, Luke, and Annabeth."

Seth grinned. "This is great! It's been so long since we've had a roof over our heads."

He was right. Most of the past few weeks had been slept under the stars, out in the open. "You guys get set up," I said. "Sandra and I are going to get some food in town."

The boys nodded and got straight to work.

The nearest town was about a half mile away, with a convenience store on the outskirts. Each week, we tried to get just enough food for good-sized rations. Funds were hard to stretch; even when the twins put their lot in with ours, we barely had enough to last ten weeks. This was week number nine.

So it was right to see Sandra raise her eyebrows at the extra pack of Double-stuff Oreos I was getting along with our other purchases.

"It's for Diego's birthday tomorrow," I explained apologetically. "I didn't want it to go amiss."

She nodded. "Poor kid, having to spend his birthday in the middle of Oklahoma with nobody but us."

"It's too bad," I agreed.

When Sandra and I were about ten feet away from our hiding place, I noticed someone's figure a couple prairies away.

I panicked. "Someone knows we're here!" I cried. "Quick, Sandra, get inside!"

She didn't need to be told twice. We both rushed inside. "Quiet!" Sandra said to Seth and Diego. "Someone's coming."

We were all still.

Soon, the unkown person's footsteps became audible. They stopped right outside our hole, where the person knelt down and moved aside the vegetation. My heartbeat intensified.

"Excuse me," said a male's voice. "I have something to deliver here. Would you mind letting me in?"

"No," Diego allowed, to my astonishment. But before I could do anything about it, the man stepped in, and I sighed in relief.

I'd never met the man before, but I could tell by his helmet and mail bag. This was Hermes, messenger of the gods. He stepped forward, toward Diego. "Hello, son," Hermes greeted him, ruffling his hair.

"Y-you're my father?" Diego asked wonderingly, seemingly unaware of the familiar gesture.

The deity nodded. "Happy almost-birthday." He moved his hand from Diego's forehead and reached inside his messenger bag to pull out . . . a toothpick box? "This is for you," Hermes said, extending the gift to him.

Diego took it, pulling out a lone toothpick. "Um, thanks," he said.

Hermes grinned. "It's not an ordinary toothpick, you know. Watch what happens when you break it."

When Diego did so, the toothpick morphed into a long bronze sword. Its build seemed trong but slender, like a javelin. It had a certain type of grandeur to it.

Brandishing the weapon proudly, Diego said, "Thank you." This time it was very sincere.

"How do you sheath it?" I asked.

"Just put the hilt of the sword back in the box," he replied.

_You have Aphrodite on line two, _a serpentine voice sounded from a pocket in Hermes's mailbag.

"Can you put her on hold?" Hermes looked very annoyed.

_Sure, _said a crafty voice. _Could you introduce us?_

Exasperated, Hermes pulled out a cell phone intertwined with snakes. "Geoge - Diego. Diego - George. Martha - Diego. Diego - Martha. George - Anna. Anna - George. Martha - Anna. Anna - Martha. Apollo's kids - George and Martha. George and Martha - Apollo's kids."

_Rats are delicious, _George said.

_That line is really old, George. _Obviously Martha.

_It's my cash phrase!_

_Those books have gone to your head._

_Hey, I said 'Rats are delicious' a lot before that book came out!_

_Did not._

_Did too._

"Enough, you two," Hermes commanded, "or you'll be set on vibrate for the _third_ time today."

They were silent.

Hermes gave an envelope to Seth and Cassandra. "This is for you. It's a note from your dad."

"Thank you." Sandra pocketed it.

"You're welcome. And here," he said, hefting a box out of his bag, "is something for Anna."

I took the box from him. It seemed archaic, with ancient Greek written all over it. I tried to lift the lid but couldn't.

"It will only open at the proper time," Hermes said quietly.

"That's Pandora's box!" Diego cried. I realized that he must have remembered this from one of his dreams about Pandora.

"That's right," Hermes said. "And you know what's inside it, don't you?"

"Hope," I answered.

"It will only open at the proper time," Hermes repeated, "and Anna must do it."

"Why?" I asked him.

"The myth of the myth," Hermes stated. "Legend says that hope wil be replenished to the side of the one who opens it. Like Pandora, this one must be a mortal woman."

"But . . . how will I know when it's the proper time?"

"You will," Hermes reassured me.

_Martha bit me, _George complained.

_He started it._

"You're both just begging to be set on vibrate," Hermes threatened.

They made no more noise but kept struggling on the phone.

"I suppose I should thank you, Anna," Hermes said, "for keeping my son safe."

Not sure how to respond, I shrugged my shoulders. "Uh, no problem, Lord Hermes."

Hermes grasped his son's shoulder. "Be strong, Diego. This is only the beginning."

Diego nodded. "Yes, Father."

Hermes turned back to me, then put his hand over the box I was still holding. Immediatiely it turned into a drawstring bag with a few zippers on it.

"Open one of the pockets only when you are in great need," I heard, and when I looked up from the bag, he was gone.

* * *

**And the poll is . . . closed! The majority of you guessed right, awesome job. This story is more exciting than I originally thought it would be. Anyway, please R&R!**


	7. Seth Asks Out a Hunk of Burning Metal

"Well," I said to Diego, patting his shoulder, "how was _that_ for a birthday gift?"

He grinned at the toothpick box in his hand. "Amazing," he murmured.

I pulled the drawstring bag that was Pandora's box over one shoulder, trying to feel casual about it. Didn't work. This thing had a really powerful aura about it, made it hard for me to think it was anything I'd ever encountered before. Definitely the coolest bag I'd ever owned.

We pulled out the double stuff Oreos then, and after I ate a couple, I asked if anyone wanted to finish _The Titan's Curse_. Seth and Cassandra said they were going to read their father's letter instead and went to the other side of the room.

"I don't feel like reading without them," said Diego. "I'm going to bed."

I nodded, and got out a blanket from a shelf. Snuggling up next to soft, earthy sod, I tried to fall asleep. It was harder to do so with the absence of the nightly Percy Jackson reading. It was so interesting, how quickly I'd gotten used to it.

"Anna?"

"Hmm?" I answered. It was Diego.

"Look, well, I meant to say this earlier, but, ah, I dunno, I guess I was just mad. I just want to say, well, I'm sorry. For what I said back in the Labyrinth. And for how rude I always am to you. So, yeah. That's it. Sorry."

I turned to him on my side. "It's not always your fault," I murmured, thinking of my friend Mandy.

He smiled sadly. "Thanks."

That was all I heard before I blacked out.

* * *

SNAP.

I tensed, my eyes opening immediately. A deep seed of fear entered my heart. I was sure there was a monster around here somewhere.

I sat up as quietly as I could and scanned the room. I saw two sleeping bodies - but then an empty spot.

I tried to calm my breathing as I shook the others awake. I realized that the missing person was Seth.

As I explained the situation, Sandra commented, "He probably just went to the bathroom or something."

I shook my head. "But there's some kind of monster here, I can tell."

Diego stood and unsheathed his sword. "Then what are we waiting for?" he challenged. "Let's kick some monster butt."

I grinned weakly and slung my bag over my shoulder. Cassandra pulled out her bow and quiver grimly, and we left the underground sanctuary.

As we came into the night, our mouths dropped open - but there was a difference. Diego and Cassandra's jaws dropped out of awe, but mine did out of fear.

Maybe they saw her as beautiful. Maybe they saw a tan, blonde girl in a black sleeveless dress with a killer figure and skin that shimmered in the moonlight.

But that wasn't what I saw. I saw a bronze maiden, with hair like molten lava and fangs like blowtorches.

Seth was looking all doe-eyed; he didn't even see us coming out of the dugout. "Can I get your number?" he was asking her.

Sandra shook her head quietly, frozen with fear. Diego, on the other hand, was nodding as though he was hoping Seth would pass her number on to him.

"You guys!" I cried. Sandra turned to look at me, but Diego was unresponsive. "You guys, it's a trick! Open your eyes!" I shook them frantically.

Sandra rubbed her eyes. "What?" she asked, startled.

"The girl," I whispered. "Shoot it. She'll kill Seth."

"Come kiss me, love," the demon crooned, curving her body in a sexy way and beckoning to Seth.

He came closer, closing his eyes and puckering his lips.

Sandra's eyes narrowed, her mouth set in a grim line. She arched her bow and aimed.

Before I could even register the motion, there was an arrow in the woman's hair; it didn't kill her, but rather, burned to a crisp. Her wrath turned on us now.

Seth who had been just a few feet away from her, took a step back. Diego gasped. I could tell that they were seeing her for what she really was.

The demon lunged at Diego, Sandra, and me. Diego swiped with his sword and cut off her hand as gravity pulled her to the earth again. Sandra and I ducked to get out of the way. The maiden landed behind us and skidded into the dugout, which set fire.

I checked to make sure we hadn't left anything in there. Blankets, I realized. And our food and money. Curses.

The demon woman sat up, angrily glowering at her stubby hand. She gave a heathenly wail and pounced again on Diego. He slid out of the way, as though she were the Minotaur. Seth and Sandra shot their arrows, but neither of them made it through the intensified inferno surrounding her. The pattern repeated itself a couple times: pounce, slide, shoot, burn. Pounce, slide, shoot, burn.

Meanwhile, I was rummaging through my mind, through my knowledge of Greek Mythology and past experiences, thinking of ways to help. Then Hermes' words echoed in my mind. _Open one of the pockets only when you are in great need. _This certainly qualified.

I pulled the drawstring bag off my back and yanked open one of the zippers. It didn't budge one inch. Panicking, I tried to use the other two. They were just as stationary as the first. My heart took off like a band of Cyclopes throwing a bunch of rocks at once.

Then everything got hotter. In a few action sequences I must have missed, the demon had somehow gotten right next to me. She knelt beside me, licking her lips.

"You will not be as delicious as the young man," she told me, "but you will do."

She grabbed my arm. I expected to feel pain, but instead I felt a dull burning, like hot air clinging to me on a summer's day. I also got the feeling something was holding her power back, like I was supposed to be in ashes and screaming in pain.

But the one screaming in pain was her. Her other hand, the one that hadn't been chopped off, was frozen in place, like stone. It seemed as though I felt a chill, too - in my hand. I realized the drawstring bag was glowing with an icy blue hue. It seemed to switch forms as well, from bag to box to bag again. My vision itself was shaking.

I understood that Pandora's box could be used as a weapon. I used it as an oven mitt, getting a hold on her, A bundle of strength - more than I ever had or will have in my whole life - built up in me, enabling me to hold her down and force the straps to hug her body.

The demon wailed in pain. She was slowly turning to stone before my eyes. Diego, Seth, and Cassandra appeared out of nowhere, and Diego brandished his sword.

"Te dei ad Tartaro exsecrant," he said fiercely. I was sure it meant something about the gods and going to Tartarus, and it was Latin.

He plunged the sword into her heart, and pieces of shrapnel exploded dramatically. I grabbed Diego in a bear hug for protection.

When I looked up, there was a circle that was completely deficit of pieces of stone, surrounding me and Diego. Between us, there was the drawstring bag, its blue glow gently fading.


	8. We Meet the Fat Lady

Diego and I stared at the bag wordlessly. Now that I had seen the box's power, I was almost afraid to even touch it. I could see glimpses of Seth and Sandra out my peripherals; as no one else dared to come closer, we all seemed to be feeling the same thing.

Trembling, I slung both straps on my shoulders. This drawstring bag now held all of our worldy possessions: namely, the Percy Jackson books, one through four, and everything I'd bothered to transfer from my original bag to this one. If only I'd thought to take our food and money, or what was left of it.

I turned toward the dugout, which was still in flames. I didn't know if it was going to spread or not, but I didn't want to stick around and find out.

"Let's go!" Sandra cried before I did.

As if waking from a trance, Diego and Seth shook themselves, and we took off, heading in no particular direction - all we wanted was to get out as quickly as possible. I didn't want to stop when my legs began to ache in protest, but at some point, I did. As I bent down to put my hands on my knees, I realized I was standing on asphault. Too late, I recognized a pair of headlights.

I don't remember ducking out of the way, but I must have, because the next thing I knew, I was on my knees, a couple feet to the right. I feveredly realized a thousand spiders were crawling up my arm, and every creep hurt unbearably. My right arm was a pale, unrecognizable mangle of bloody flesh, with even some bone sticking out.

I didn't recognize the person walking up to me; my eyes stared unseeingly in the shock of seeing my injury.

" . . . you okay? I - what are you doing here in the middle of the night? I could have killed you! Do you need a ride -"

"ANNA!"

_"Anna!"_

"Anna!"

Something wet rolled down my face. I was crying. I had been agonizingly moaning in pain, but had only realized it now.

"You have to get up," choked Diego. "Get in the car, the hospital's only a few miles away."

I felt a little dizzy as I stood up. Someone grabbed me by the shoulders, and the next thing I knew, I was staring into Seth's eyes. "She has a concussion!" he cried fearfully.

I felt him and Sandra coming to either side of me, keeping me steady as I stumbled into the van. I tried to reach for a seat belt with my right arm, but realized in horror that I couldn't move it. Someone did it for me.

I don't remember the drive, or checking into the hospital. I was too much in shock. They took X-rays. . . . Once I was looked at, the doctor claimed that I'd have to be drugged for my arm to be set. It felt wrong, feeling the strange numbness of them cleaning my arm, and watching my bone retreat back into its fracture zone.

At some point after being treated, I slept fitfully.

* * *

"Hi, Anna," Seth said, leaning over me. I'd just opened my eyes.

"Hey," I said, trying to sit up.

"Nuh uh uh," he reprimanded, wagging his finger in front of my face. "How can you deny us the fun of playing with your bed?"

"But you said I could do it the first time!" cried Diego.

"Oh. Yeah . . ."

After jiggling with the controls a few times, Diego got me into an upright position.

I surveyed the hospital room. It was no different than any other I'd seen - bland wallpaper and the hospital-y smell. Sandra was sitting in a nearby chair, and next to her was a pregnant woman, looking very far along even to my unexperienced eyes. Her hair was naturally curly and jet black, coming down just past her chin. Her eyes were a sparkling light blue, the kind that should be alive and happy, but instead looked dead and grim.

"I, ah, who are you?" I asked her.

"I'm Liana Finch," she answered. "I'm sorry about your arm."

"It's okay," I answered honestly. "Taking me to the hospital and stuff made up for it. And this is kind of a learning experience," I rambled on, curiously staring at my sling, which felt very heavy. "I've never broken a bone before." Not that I'd ever want to again.

Sandra gave a grim smile. "Honestly Anna, you could be taking an MRI and still call it a learning experience."

I tried to shrug, but it's slightly harder to do so when your arm's in a sling.

"How are you feeling?" Liana asked.

"Just tired," I answered. "I wish I could sleep for more than a few hours without getting woken up by somebody." A sudden question popped in my head. "Where have you guys been sleeping?" If they were sleeping in hospital chairs and I'd been complaining from a comfortable bed . . .

"We were at Liana's," answered Sandra. "Diego didn't want to leave - I didn't either, really - but she insisted."

"There was nothing they could do for you but get some rest," Liana stated firmly.

I was quiet, but my head was buzzing with questions, still fuzzy on the details of what had happened last night. However, I didn't know if Liana knew about us - or if she did, how much - so I couldn't risk asking those questions now.

"Thank you," I said quietly. I tried to think of a polite way to ask her to leave, but came up with nothing. An awkward silence hung in the air.

Liana leaned forward slightly in her seat. "I - I don't mean to be nosy, but doctors have asked me questions, and while I don't know how to answer them. . . . I haven't asked before now because it seemed inconsiderate while you all were under stress. But what were you _doing_ last night?"

Diego, Seth, Sandra, and I all exchanged worried glances. I had no idea what to tell her - but I certainly couldn't say that we were runaway fugitives fleeing mythological monsters.

"Please tell me," she said apparently sincerely. "I'll help you as much as I can."

I looked at Liana with new eyes. She was apparently single, pregnant, and sad. I had met a few women like her - one of them the distant memory of my aunt. I remembered she had gone to New York on her eighteenth birthday, and returned in Liana's condition. Most of the memory was built on what my parents had told me. She died a few years after giving birth to Diego - cancer. Liana was in a similar position, but she didn't shrink from helping us. No one else saw us on the road last night. She could have left me for roadkill. She would receive my hospital bills. And she provided a place for Diego, Seth, and Sandra to sleep, besides an uncomfortable hospital chair, on top of that. She deserved to know the truth.

I took a deep breath. "Liana . . ." I hesitated, unsure how to proceed. "The Greek gods - you know, like Zeus and Hera - they're, well, real."

You could hear a pin drop.

Liana's eyes widened, then she breathed heavily, as if the baby inside her was compressing the oxygen out of her. "Oh. I see."

She thought we were crazy; it was obvious.

"I . . . I have to go . . . schedule-"

But what she was going to schedule I never heard. She half ran to the door, and I thought I heard a choked sob as she left.

"Great going, Anna," Diego sneered sarcastically, his arms folded.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked defensively.

"She was going to help us!" Seth pitched in angrily. "And now she won't, and it's your fault."

"Are you _brain_ dead?!" Diego cried.

"Seeing as I was recently hit by a car, I could have been." I knew I sounded petty, but the sting of Seth and Diego's comments stung. I didn't think I could explain why I'd felt moved to tell Liana the truth. I hadn't foreseen her reaction in the heat of the moment, and the urge felt silly now.

"Guys . . ." Sandra said quietly. "Please don't fight." It worried me to see how freaked out and sad she seemed.

Seth gave her a disgusted look. "Don't tell me you actually think she's _right_."

"I don't agree with you and Diego, but, well . . . she was . . . a little . . . blunt . . ."

I couldn't stand criticism from all sides. I felt irascible and defensive. I wanted to scream at them and make them go away. I wanted to fly into a rage, and I wanted to cry.

"Fine!" I cried. "Tell Liana I'm not thinking straight, tell her she messed me up really bad, and you can have your turn at making her cry."

Everyone stared at me. "Just get _out_!"I screamed, waving my good arm as if to hit them. "Get out!"

They all filed out of the hospital room with confused, scared, and angry looks, and I was utterly alone.

I wet my pillow. Suddenly, I wished someone was here for me to cry with, who wouldn't take sides and loved me no matter what.

What I wanted was my mom.

* * *

**That was more dramatic than I thought it would be. Well, the next chapter wil be out soon. Sorry this one took so long.**


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